


Marked

by arcadian_dream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadian_dream/pseuds/arcadian_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This scar," Sirius said, "it's just there. Hidden. Under your hip. In this place that no-one sees."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

Absorbed by the buzzing heat and energy of the bedroom, Remus lay back against the pillow, exhausted. With a deep groan, he exhaled, the warm breath catching in his dry throat. He closed his eyes and allowed the haze of post-coital serenity wash over him as Sirius released Remus' softening cock from his mouth.

Remus sighed and shifted slightly as Sirius ran the palms of his hands up over his thighs and hips. He waited, expectantly, for the touch of his lover's fingertips caressing the scarred skin of his heaving chest, but the touch never came.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered hoarsely: "Padfoot?"

"Hmm?" came the distracted reply as Remus felt the sudden pressure of Sirius' fingers kneading the his hip bone.

"Padfoot, what're you doing down there?" Remus hoisted himself up from his prostrate position so that he was leaning on his elbows.

"This scar," Sirius mused, running his thumb across a ribbon of silvery skin just below Remus' hip.

"What about it?" Remus shifted awkwardly; wriggling beneath Sirius' insistent touch. He loathed his scars, a permanent reminder of his difference; his inferiority in the eyes of much of the Wizarding world; a tattooed marker of the beast that lay within.

"I don't know what about it," Sirius replied matter-of-factly, "It's just ... " He paused and, nuzzling against Remus' belly, extended his tongue, allowing the tip to skim the surface of the shirred skin.

A gurgling noise escaped Remus' mouth, even as he tried to twist his body away from Sirius.

"It's just," Sirius continued, "it's just _there._ Hidden. Under your hip. In this place that no-one sees."

"You see it."

"Sure," Sirius replied. " _I_ do. But no-one else does. Or if they do, they don't notice it."

"I know," Remus said. "That's the way I like it. I'd prefer it if you didn't notice it either, to be honest."

Sirius shook his head. He smiled. "I wouldn't," he said. "I like that I see it. I like that I know exactly where it is. What it looks like. The way it moves when you do..."

Sirius trailed off. His head cocked to one side of thought, he pushed his thumb against the scar; skin and flesh and bone.

"I like that it's mine. Just mine. There is one thing though."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?" he asked.

"I'd like one of my own." His hand pressed flat against Remus' body, Sirius gestured to the same place on his own. "One to match."

Remus furrowed his brow. "You want what?"

"Just here," Sirius explained, palming his own hip. "Just like yours." Smiling, Sirius threw one leg over Remus' naked body and, straddling him, placed a quick, rough kiss to his lips.

"Let me get this right," Remus said, looking into Sirius' wide, grey eyes. "You _want_ this? Your body to be damaged like this? To cut and bleed and itch while it heals?"

Sirius nodded. "I want to be beautiful, Moony. Like this scar," he said; "like you."

"Padfoot – Sirius, that's crazy. What're you –"

"Hang on," Sirius interrupted, swinging his leg back over Remus' body and clambering off the bed and to his feet. He disappeared from the room with a skip and, in a moment, he returned, wielding a small flick knife in his hand.

"Sirius, what are you –" Remus tried to ask, but faltered. He hitched himself up on his elbows.

"Here," Sirius said, offering the handle of the knife to Remus. Tentatively, Remus took it – if only to retrieve it from Sirius' grasp.

Sirius, smiling still, climbed back onto the bed and straddled Remus once more. He eased back on his haunches. His hips jutting toward Remus, he steadied himself with one hand on Remus' thigh; with the other, he indicated the place just below his hip.

"Just here, Moony," he said, "just like yours."

"Sirius, I –"

"Please, Remus," Sirius implored. "I want to be cut. To be marked. As yours."

Uncertain, Remus gnawed his bottom lip. He looked into Sirius' eyes – he was serious; he _was_.

But Remus didn't know if he could do what was being asked of him.

Aware of Remus' hesitance, Sirius reached for the hand in which he was holding the knife. Wrapping long, slender fingers around Remus' wrist, he guided his hand toward him; with the knife in Remus' hand and Remus' hand is his, Sirius brought the blade, cold and sharp to his skin. Exerting an even, gentle pressure, he gasped as steel pierced flesh.

Remus, his hand stilled in Sirius', could not bring himself to watch; he could not see what he was doing, but instead, trusted Sirius' hand to guide his. Feeling Sirius' body succumb to the knife's pressure, Remus opened his eyes.

He watched as Sirius' skin opened; as blood trickled in a long, thin line from just below his hip. Above him, Sirius winced. Taking the knife from Remus' hand, Sirius closed it and dropped it to the floor. It landed on the carpet with a muted thud.

"Jesus," Remus said hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes from Sirius' cut. "Are you alright?"

Sirius nodded; emphatic. He was beaming. Taking Remus' hand in his once more, he closed it over his hip; hot blood seeping between their entwined fingers; creeping along the lines of their palms.

"I'm perfect, Moony," Sirius whispered. "I'm yours."

**Author's Note:**

> Lusty Month of May 2011.


End file.
